


A Snake in the Lion's Den

by milo_ren_solo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 14:03:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19854715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_ren_solo/pseuds/milo_ren_solo
Summary: The board has been set and the die has been cast. Voldemort's war is looming on the horizon. Even now darkness threatens the world of light. Now is the time that witches and wizards across the world must choose which side of history they will stand on.For some, it seems that their paths have already been set before them. Can one act of kindness change a person's destiny?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Harry Potter AU - primarily will focus on Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows- with a twist. There will eventually be adult content, but only after characters are of age until then, strictly PG.
> 
> "It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." - William Shakespeare

-0-0-0-

It had all started with a single look. One small glance across the Great Hall in which their eyes had met and the raven-haired boy had smiled at him. Not a gleeful and bright flash of teeth nor even smug grin. But rather it was a halfhearted tug at the corner of his lips that expressed pity and if he was not mistaken, sorrow. It had given him pause, wondering just what Saint Potter was playing at. He had returned the look with a scowl, which he had expected to be given back in kind, but Potter merely sighed, his shoulders dropping as he held Draco's gaze.

It was short-lived, however, as at that moment the bushy-haired girl beside him had said something that pulled Harry's attention to her and had them both pouring over some textbook.

The interaction put him off his breakfast, to say the least. Not that he had much of an appetite these days anyway. 

He ate very little and slept even less. His air of confidence and swagger with which he had always conducted himself was gone. It had dwindled away until there was nothing left of him but a pale and hollow shell of his former self. For the life of him, he could not remember the last time that he had even smiled. Everything that he had known had been pulled out from beneath him. His family was disgraced. Living as little more than prisoners in their own home. Malfoy Manor had undergone a stark transformation through the summer, converted into the safe house of the Death Eaters. Murderers, cutthroats, and thieves living in his home, watching their every move. The Dark Lord himself had taken up residence there, moving about the Manor and looking down at them as if they were something distasteful which he had stepped in.

For years his father had taught him that theirs was the right way of life. That their blood made them superior to the rabble. That they were Malfoys and that inherently just made them better. He did not feel superior to anyone anymore. He felt like a scared child. The excitement that his family had felt at the Dark Lord's return quickly having shifted into nothing short of terror, increasing exponentially at each of his father's failings.

The Dark Lord had called for him personally a few short months ago. He had graciously given him what he had called 'the opportunity to redeem his family name.' Voldemort had branded him with the mark. Draco could not help but think every time he looked at it that what he had been gifted was truly a death sentence. But however scared he was, he knew that he did not have a choice but to follow through. If he did not fulfil his mission it had been made clear that his and his family's fate would be on his head.

He had far more to worry about than why Harry sodding Potter would be smiling at him from across the Great Hall, he thought to himself as he subconsciously began to toy with his left sleeve.

He tried to eat a few more bites of toast, but it was a lost cause. It simply made his stomach turn unpleasantly. Instead, the Slytherin shouldered his bag and quickly left the Great Hall. As he made his way along the path towards the greenhouses for Herbology he wondered if Potter knew. It was clear that the boy knew some of what was happening with him, their altercation on the train had made that clear. But Potter was intuitive. Did he know that Draco did not want to go through with it? Was he somehow aware that the blond spent his nights wishing and even praying for a way out?

He was forced to push the thoughts to the side as he tended to his Venomous Tentacula during the lesson. The plant was mischievous at the best of times and downright nasty at the worst. Donning his dragonhide gloves the blond would distract the plant by offering it treats of fresh doxies which it would wrap in its gripping vines, distracting it long enough for him to prune any dead leaves or any which were in pristine enough condition to be used for Advanced Potions classes with a simple severing charm.

Even though it was a tricky task which he truly should be focusing on, he could not help but glance across the greenhouse to where the Gryffindors were tending to their own plants. He was unsurprised to see Granger sneaking her doxies out the open window, much to the amusement of her raven-haired companion. Though, Weasley seemed to be giving her grief for it. He was always giving her grief for something, it seemed. He could very clearly remember the girl creating her house-elf rights group, something she was incredibly passionate about, and he could also remember seeing Weasley give her guff for it. Not that he had cared much himself about it. It seemed ridiculous to him to care about the rights of sodding house-elves. But Draco was beginning to understand that he had been wrong about a lot of things.

He wondered for a moment what it would be like to be on that side of the room. To be friends with the Golden Trio. Had he been gifted another life, with those three at his side as his friends, he wondered if he would be helping Granger sneak the bitey little doxies out the greenhouse window, or if he would be playfully teasing her for her bleeding heart with Weasley. Perhaps snickering about the pair and their ridiculous banter amusedly with Potter.

It had been a mistake to allow his mind to wander. Draco felt the sting of thorns a Tentacula vine wrapped around his arm. The blond swore loudly, but that was honestly fairly common and completely accepted in the sixth year classes for this very reason. He brought his hawthorn wand down, severing the leafy appendage which dropped limply to the ground. The venom made his head spin for just a few moments, but thankfully he had barely been scratched through his robes and his shirt.

Every eye had turned to him at the shout but most had returned to their tasks by the time that Draco had composed himself. He stopped to collect the vine, tossing it into the bin. As he did so he swore again, under his breath this time, at the sight of all the leaves that could have been harvested. They were sensitive and now had gone to waste since they could not be plucked from the live plant.

He lifted his eyes and saw, for the second time that day, Potter looking in his direction. His brow was furrowed and he could swear that it was a look of concern being levelled his way. He turned, not dignifying it with a response as he chastised himself for daydreaming. He managed to not make eye contact with the boy for the rest of the hour.

The rest of the day was spent cramming as much homework as he could into his free periods which were spent in the library and then trying to keep his head down during Charms and then in Transfiguration that afternoon. When classes were done for the day the Slytherin only stopped by the great hall long enough to grab a few bites of dinner before excusing himself to the dungeons.

He laid out his homework on his favourite table by an ornate fireplace and began to dig into it. He poured over the rune translations which were due tomorrow, working diligently into the night. He worked until all the other Slytherins had come and gone, as he had every night this term. He found himself growing impatient, his foot bouncing with nervous energy as he pretended to still be working and the last stragglers finished up a round of Exploding Snap finally shuffling off to their dormitories.

Draco let out a sigh and went about putting away his parchment and books. He pulled a shrivelled hand out of the bag, placing it as well as a candle into the large pocket of his robes. He then withdrew his wand flicking it lazily as he whispered, "Reducio."

The entire bag shrunk down to a size that he could easily fit into his palm, allowing him to store it away in his pocket as he stood and made his way out into the dark corridors of the Hogwarts dungeons. The blonde twirled his wand around himself as if binding a rope around his person and shivered slightly at the sensation of his disillusionment charm, much like the sensation of a raw egg cracking over his head. The charm had been tricky to learn but at this point, he was satisfied with the result. As he walked he brought out his Hand of Glory and settled the candle into its grip. He lit it with his wand, a softly spoken, "Incendio." It filled the hallway with light that he knew was visible only to him.

It was in this manner that Draco crept through the corridors of Hogwarts, up to the maze of staircases to the seventh floor of the castle. He did not even spare a glance at Barnabas the Barmy in his tapestry as he paced in front of the small stretch of wall, willing the Room of Hidden Things to appear for him. It would be a long night, as had every other since his return to Hogwarts.

Little did he know that across the castle in one of the tallest towers that Harry Potter had been watching his name on the Marauder's Map by the light of his wand, as he lay in his four-poster with the curtains drawn. His brow furrowed as he saw the little dot disappear off of the map, as it had nearly every night since term began. The Gryffindor let out a heavy sigh, tapping the map and whispering, "Mischief Managed." There was little point in continuing to stare. He knew that the Slytherin would not reappear for several hours, yet he stared at the spot long after it had been wiped clean before tucking the parchment under his pillow and wondering to himself, 'What have you gotten yourself into, Malfoy?'

-0-0-0-

It continued much the same through the next several weeks, Draco would catch Potter looking his way at regular intervals during the day. Just brief moments where they would lock gazes across the room. It seemed like it was every time that he glanced in the boy wonder's direction those emerald green eyes would be looking right back at him. But that was not the only frustration he was facing.

He was getting nowhere fast with the Vanishing Cabinet. The magical damage to the wardrobe and its twin was so far beyond him that he was not sure that he would ever figure it out. The boy was beginning to become desperate and angry. A dangerous combination. And while Potter was little more than an irritation that he normally would have ignored, he found that anger beginning to boil over.

How could he look so much and see so little?

By the time that mid-October rolled around Draco was about ready to have a repeat experience of their interaction on the Hogwarts Express at the start of term. Perhaps Potter's nose crunching under his heel once again would put a stop to his staring.

They had drawn very clear lines as rivals- if not enemies, and this behaviour was unacceptable given those boundaries. Even with his own moments of weakness in which he wondered what it might be like, he knew that they were nothing but fantasies. So it was with great surprise that Draco looked up from his book in the library to find, not only Harry looking directly at him as was becoming fairly standard but standing only a pace or two away from him, clearing his throat to make his presence known.

The Slytherin raised his brow, surprised enough that he did not even manage a scowl as he asked in irritation, "Can I help you, Potter?"

The raven-haired boy smiled down at him, looking a bit embarrassed as he said, "No… well actually yes. Kind of. Not help me, but I had a question for you."

Draco set down his quill, turning his body in his chair to face the other fully, if a bit petulantly, his arms folded across his chest. He had found his scowl and it was now firmly in place. "What? If you have not noticed I am drowning in Transfiguration and do not really have time for this."

To his great annoyance, Potter actually laughed. An amused chuckle, completely unphased by his somewhat aggressive display. The Gryffindor stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels as he asked, "Want to come to Hogsmeade with me? With us. Me and Hermione and Ron."

The blond stared up at the other boy in stunned silence, blinking stupidly at him for several long moments before asking, "Did someone Confound you?... or me? Because I am almost positive that you just asked me to… hang out ."

The question was met with another laugh as Potter shook his head and replied, "Nope, not confounded." The boy then had the audacity to pull up the chair beside him and continued, "The thing is… you once asked to be my friend. And I have been thinking a lot about how different things may have turned out between us if I had, well-"

"Not been a total prat about it?" The Slytherin supplied helpfully.

The addition was met with a sheepish grin, "Well, yes. Not that you weren't a prat either, but still. I could have been more open-minded."

Draco stared at the boy, it was true that on their first day of Hogwarts he had offered Potter his hand, his loyalty, and his friendship, only to be shot down. He would be lying if he said that it had not hurt and that he had not held on to resentment for it through the years. He raised a brow and asked, "And what do Weasle and Granger think of your sudden insane desire to befriend me? I can't imagine it was met with much enthusiasm."

Harry brought one hand up, running his fingers through the dishevelled and windswept shock of hair above his brow as he let out another chuckle, "Well… I wouldn't say that. They were quite enthusiastic about the fact that they thought I lost my mind. But they are coming around to my way of thinking."

Draco scoffed, turning back to his work as he commented, "Is that 'Chosen One' for 'I do what I want'?"

"Pretty much," Harry replied with a bemused chuckle before leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table beside Draco's spare parchment and asking, "So, will you?"

The Slytherin scratched out a line of his essay with a bit of a flourish as he pondered the request. He had been begging the universe for a way out of the shitshow that was his life. He had been so angry at Potter staring at him- but the truth of the matter was that he wouldn't have noticed if he had not been looking just as much.

He let out a soft sigh as he looked back to the Gryffindor and replied in a seemingly bored and disinterested tone, "Well, Potter, even if I did want to go frolicking about with the golden trio while freezing my bollocks off in Hogsmeade- I'm afraid my hands are tied. Detention with McGonagall."

He was genuinely surprised to see just how crestfallen Potter looked at that answer. Regardless of everything- there was still a part of him that had been certain that Potter had been joking.

The other boy seemed to shake off his disappointment and smiled up at Draco widely, "Well, next time, then- if you can stay out of trouble. But what about now? Would you be opposed to studying with us? 'Mione is brilliant with Transfiguration and I bet she could help you knock this out in no time."

The Slytherin furrowed his brow at the offer, cocking his head to the side as he looked back at the raven-haired boy, grey eyes meeting the emerald green as he asked, "Why? You said you have been thinking about what could have been different- but why? We have not said one kind word to each other in five years. We fight nearly every time we are in a room together without adult supervision. Why would you have even the slightest desire to pal around?"

Herry chewed his lip for just a moment before he replied quietly, "Things are getting bad, Malfoy. I am sure you know that just as well as I do. We are on the brink of war… and I don't want to fight you. I don't want to see you get hurt… I need you to know that there are other options."

Draco let out a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a dismal laugh as he looked back at the other and asked, "Are you going to save me, Potter? Fix me?" He shook his head as he looked back to the pile of work on the table in front of him, "It's too late, Potter. My fate was decided for me a long time ago."

Harry leaned forward a bit more with a stupid smug grin that made Draco's stomach do a strange somersault and replied, "You still have time to decide your own fate, Draco... I was once told by someone very dear to me that we've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That is who we really are."

The Gryffindor raised one hand, gripping Draco's shoulder for just a moment before standing and continuing, "Just… just think about it okay? If you decide you want to study with us we are right over there. It is an open invitation, even if you do not decide today."

Draco watched as the boy walked away, back over to Granger and Weasley who seemed to have been watching their interaction with great interest and were now ducking their heads together to get all the details from Potter who had just taken his seat and visibly shrugged at them.

The blond quickly dropped his eyes back to his work as the pair looked around Harry's shoulders and in his direction. Even then he could feel them staring. He could not say exactly how long he stared at the single line of his essay, no nearer to completing it than he had been the moment that Potter cleared his throat. Without looking up to see if the trio was still there the Slytherin quickly shoved his work into his bag and made his way out of the library with his head down, eyes trained firmly on the toes of his highly polished boots. It was not until he was back in the security of the Slytherin dormitory that he stopped to even process what had just happened in the library.

Hadn't this been just the kind of divine intervention that he had been asking for? A way out. A lifeline.

He made his way to his bed, dropping his bag on his trunk as he pondered once again - what would it be like to be on the other side of this bloody war.

He also found himself unable to forget that smirk that Potter had worn as he leaned forward to whisper at him. He was not willing to put much thought into why it kept running through his mind or why even now it made his stomach twist in a not entirely unpleasant way.

The Slytherin dropped onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling of his four-poster with a slight smile tugging at his lips as he imagined what it would be like to actually spend an afternoon sat inside the three broomsticks with the golden trio, drinking butterbeer and laughing. A single afternoon not worrying about assassination and what fate would befall him and his mother if he failed.

The line of thought became sobering very quickly. The smile faded from his lips and his heart sank in his chest. He couldn't actually consider this. It was insanity. If he were to be seen in Hogsmeade with Potter… well, he could just imagine the headlines.

'The Chosen One Spotted with Son of Known Death Eater Lucius Malfoy,' wouldn't that just be a laugh?

He could only imagine how funny the Dark Lord would find it. To hear that he had befriended Harry Potter. He would either be furious and take it out on his mother or use him as a pawn in orchestrating the boy's demise. And he could not let that happen.

Harry Potter had to live. He was the best chance- perhaps the only chance that the wizarding world had against the Death Eaters.

The mark on his arm seemed to sting at the traitorous thought. He lifted his arm, unfastening the cuff of his shirt as he brought it eye level to look at the tattoo. It was starkly black against his pale skin the snake that was twisted in what was nearly a figure eight on his forearm was still, for now. But he knew that at any moment the Dark Lord could call upon him, the mark would burn as the snake began coiling in on itself- the pain of it growing more intense until he had heeded the call and god willing, Voldemort allowed it to stop.

He had taken the mark- had taken it willingly and enthusiastically. It was the night after his father's trial. He had watched the Wizengamot staring down their noses at his father as if he were something repugnant. His father, once so proud and strong, a pillar of pure-blood society - he had cowered before them as they sentenced him to Azkaban. He had looked like little more than a broken man as he was dragged out of the chamber, flagged by Aurors.

The embarrassment he felt then was nothing compared to that which he felt as he and his mother pushed their way through a sea of reporters, cameras flashing as they shouted questions at them. He knew that their faces would be plastered all over the Daily Prophet the next morning.

It was then that the Dark Lord had summoned him. The wizard had whispered sweetly in his ear about power and glory- about reclaiming the dignity of the Ancient House of Malfoy. He said that Draco was destined for great things, that he would be honoured above all others- the saviour of the traditional ways, the preservation of pure blood and all that it stood for.

Draco had lifted his sleeve willingly, had kneeled before the Dark Lord and accepted his mark. It was only then that the Dark Lord had given him his instructions and his warnings of what would come should he fail. He had locked eyes with his mother who was staring in abject horror at the scene before her while her sister, as dark as she was light, grinned widely- practically purring at the thought of her family having been blessed with such an opportunity. 

He lifted his eyes to meet the bright red, snake-like slits of the Wizard that still held his wrist and had vowed, "I will not fail you, my lord."

"See that you don't, Draco. Do not make me regret my lenience."

The blonde dropped his arm, fastening the buttons of his cuff once again as he tried to shake the memory.

It was easy for Potter to speak pretty words about choosing your own destiny- but weren't they both destiny's playthings? The die has been cast. There was no stopping this and there was no saving Draco Malfoy.

The Slytherin turned on his side, not bothering to change out of his robes as he pulled himself into a restless sleep.

The next morning when he woke Draco pulled his pocket watch from the deep pocket of his robes, groaning when he saw that he had less than thirty minutes to report for his detention. Already students would be gathering to make their way to the carriages which would take them to Hogsmeade.

He turned back to lay flat on his bed once more after pulling his bag up onto the bed with him, pulling out a small green silk pouch and emptying the contents into his palm. The boy began tapping his wand against what appeared at first glance to be nothing more than a run of the mill galleon. However, he knew that as soon as his message was finished the barmaid at the Three Broomsticks would feel her own coin heat up in her pocket and receive his instructions.

It was not until later that afternoon, his assignments turned in and his massive amount of lines finished that Draco heard the news that Katie Bell had run afoul a cursed necklace while in the charming village. 

-0-0-0-


	2. Chapter 2

-0-0-0-

After Hogsmeade, the smiles were less frequent and had become subdued. The staring itself had seemed to increase tenfold, however. It seemed that no matter where he was or what he was doing Draco could lift his eyes and Saint Potter would be looking his way. Quite often he appeared rather sad looking at him, other times he looked downright angry. 

Malfoy often wondered if the boy knew that he had been behind the attack on Katie Bell. Not that he had intended to actually hurt her- she was just an unfortunate victim of circumstance. She had simply been the first of the Hogwarts students to enter the bathroom of the Three Broomsticks alone. She happened to be the one to be cursed by Rosmerta and given the task of delivering the necklace to Dumbledore. She just so happened to have a small hole in her glove. He never wanted to hurt her. 

He wanted to know how she was- to see if she was recovering and if there was any news about her condition. He could not risk appearing out of character to inquire about her state, however. It would seem too out of place. Too suspicious. The last thing he needed was for unwanted attention- even more unwelcome eyes being levelled his direction. 

He had to maintain his routines. He had to appear unaffected. 

Needless to say, he had not taken Potter up on his offer to study together. He did find himself wondering if the Golden Boy would even still be willing. Harry had not approached him again, which only made him wonder even more if the Gryffindor was suspicious. 

Things only seemed to get worse for Draco as the holidays drew near. Draco did not have much mind or patience to be completely caught up on the gossip of what the Golden Trio had been up to, but the talk of Weasley and Granger's falling out had been loud enough that even he noticed it. Plus it was impossible to not see Lavender Brown and her constant show of throwing herself all over Weasley in disgusting displays of public affection. 

During breakfast, he did meet Potter's eyes from across classrooms or the Great Hall and he could tell that their row was very hard on him. He was strained and equally unhappy. The Gryffindor lifted his eyes and scanned the Slytherin table as if looking for someone- his search stopping when he caught Draco's eyes. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips for just a moment before he was pulled back into what looked like a rather uncomfortable conversation with Weasley and his lady-love. 

Malfoy gathered up his things, quickly making his way out of the Great Hall as soon as Harry had looked away. Because of that, he was not privy to Potter having looked back at the spot where the blond had been sitting, his features becoming crestfallen when the seat was now empty. 

-0-0-0-

"You could always just talk to him, Harry," Hermione said quietly as they worked with their heads huddled together in a corner of the library. Harry glanced back at her somewhat sheepishly, pulling his gaze from a certain Slytherin at the other end of the room, his cheeks flushing at having been caught and called out for his pining.

"And say what, 'Mione? 'I noticed you're going off the deep end and trying to kill people, wanna snog me instead?' I'm sure that'd go over well." He replied in a whisper back to her, his brow furrowing with frustration. 

The bushy-haired girl let out an exasperated sigh and reminded, "We do not  _ know _ that the necklace was his. And even if you are right, which I  _ am not _ saying you are, don't you think that now, before there are any further dire consequences that now is the time to double down on trying to be his… ah...  _ friend _ ?"

She blushed slightly at the last word, still getting used to openly discussing Harry's crush on the blond. She had put the pieces together, of course, and had confronted Harry about it in her own grief of having seen Ron and Lavender together after the last Quidditch match. 

Sitting in an empty classroom with charmed canaries tweeting around them, wiping tears from her face as she said,  _ "I see the way you look at him." _

She shook off the memory and focused on the emerald eyes of her best friend, watching the way that his brow furrowed and he could not seem to help but glance again across the room. She reached out a hand resting it on top of Harry's and urging, "Don't make the same mistakes I did and wait until it is too late."

Harry looked back to her, letting out a shaky breath before giving a resolute nod and standing from the table, grabbing his books and saying, "I'll see you back in the common room, yeah?" 

Hermione gave a nod and adjusted her own seat to be able to keep an eye on what happened as she worked through her Charms essay. 

Harry felt as if his feet were made of lead as he made the short journey to the other side of the room, but he took another breath and put on his best, most winning smile as he pulled out a chair and sat down in the spot across from Malfoy, dropping his books onto the table. 

The blond looked up, obviously startled- too surprised to even scowl at the Gryffindor's sudden appearance. 

The raven-haired boy flashed a grin and said happily, "Wotcher, Malfoy."

The Slytherin furrowed his brow, his sneer slowly but surely taking hold as he replied, "What is it you want, Potter?"

"We already had this conversation once. You have just been less than receptive on your own to my offer and so I thought it was time to give a bit of a push," Harry replied with a hopeful smile. 

Draco scoffed softly, leaning in just a bit to quip, "And did it never occur to you that I have been less than receptive because I do not want your bloody friendship?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "It has, yes. But I am not so willing to give up. Bit of a hard-headed prat, really."

"So I had noticed," came the response, complete with a roll of those steely grey eyes. While it probably shouldn't have, the look made Harry's stomach do a strange somersault inside him. 

Harry swallowed thickly, bringing a hand up to muss his hair nervously and giving a soft chuckle. "Yeah, it would be pretty hard to miss, I guess." He dropped his hand and forced the smile back onto his face asking, "So, what are we working on?"

Draco had been distracted from his glaring by the way that Harry's eyes shone in the light, seeming all the brighter as he laughed boyishly and gave his hair a particularly windswept look. He managed to quickly recover from the unpleasant butterflies the sight caused and made an impatient clicking sound with his tongue before responding, "I am working on my Transfiguration essay. Which I was intending on making a solo venture. So… you know. Begone with you."

The Gryffindor gave another laugh and pulled his own Transfiguration book out of the pile and began digging through his bag for his own partially done essay which he unrolled before saying, "Transfiguration it is. So, I am about a foot and a half shy of being done on this. Unfortunately, I am also pants at note-taking. So I am sort of hoping that you are a bit more clear on Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration."

The Slytherin furrowed his brow, bringing his elbows to rest on the table as he glared at the other, "First off, I am not helping you with your homework, Potter. Secondly, are you really so thick that you do not understand this basic concept?" 

Harry responded by bringing his hands up and giving a shrug, which made the blond roll his eyes hard enough to make himself dizzy and snap back, "It is only the basic law that governs all transmutative magics."

The Gryffindor widened his eyes, looking much like a deer caught in headlights as he asked, "So that means that it is pretty important, yeah?"

"For the love of Merlin. You are hopeless, Potter." The blond reached forward, grabbing hold of Harry's essay and pulling it toward himself as he said, "I have to see what a bloody trainwreck this is." 

He smoothed out the parchment in front of him and muttered, "Your handwriting looks like a toddler's." It took him only a few moments to read through everything that Harry had written and look up to him with exasperation. He looked Harry in the eyes before tearing the parchment down the centre, causing the Gryffindor to give a shout of, "Oi!"

Harry quieted his voice as Madam Pince threw a vicious look his way and hushed him. "What the Hell, Malfoy?"

The blond smirked and replied, "If you turned that in you were going to fail."

"It wasn't that bad," Harry replied in a somewhat defensive whisper. 

"Oh, it really was," Draco said with a nod as he turned to rummage through his bag, pulling out a roll of parchment and handing it over to the Gryffindor. "My class notes. You may use them until I leave this room. Make good use of your time, Potter."

Harry reached out to take the notes, his fingers brushing against Malfoy's for just a moment as he did. The feeling of Malfoy's cool skin against his, even for a moment caused his breath to hitch in his throat. 

The Gryffindor unfurled the parchment in his hand, looking at the clean and slanted cursive on the page, admiring how pretty the writing was for a few moments before glancing up and saying, "Thanks, Malfoy."

"Your time is wasting, Potter." The blond snapped back at him, though the ghost of a smile played about his lips as he went back to writing his own paper. Two hours passed in near silence other than the scratch of their quills, the occasional ruffle of pages as Draco scoured his Transfiguration book for some random fact. The quiet between them was only broken a few times as Harry piped up, asking for some clarification on one point or another. These questions were typically met with some insult, but also the answer to the question tucked between the words. 

When the evening was drawing to a close, most students having already filtered out of the library to make their way back toward the dorms, Draco shut his books, stowing them back in his bag and holding his hand out expectantly at the other. "Well, hand it over. Let's see if you have managed to at least give the illusion that you have been listening to McGonagall for the last six years."

Harry flushed but handed over the paper. As he did he said, "Please don't tear it again."

Malfoy raised a brow and said, "I make no such promises." He lifted the paper up, skimming through it and humming softly to himself as he did. After just a couple of minutes, he handed it back to the Gryffindor and shrugged, "It will do. But you are still about four inches off. I'd suggest writing a summary at the end. Just hang onto the notes. I expect them back tomorrow after class."

Without any kind of goodbye or acknowledgement, the Slytherin stood, throwing his bag over his shoulder and turning to walk briskly from the room. 

Harry watched him go, sinking back into the chair for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, smiling as he began to gather his books and parchment. He quite nearly jumped out of his skin at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Hermione had made her way over to him, a bright smile on her face. "That went better than could be expected, I think. Over two hours and not a single curse, jinx or hex. I think this was some good progress."

He looked up to her incredulously and asked, "Did you seriously snoop the whole time?"

The witch moved her hand to her hip, raising a brow at him. "I was not snooping. I was merely watching out for my best friend. And observing a rather fascinating sociological experiment… are you going to ask to study with him again?"

Harry gave a snort and replied, "Sociological experiment? More like eavesdropping, 'Mione." His smile became more of a smirk as he said, "I have to. I will need to return his notes, after all."

-0-0-0-

Harry spent quite a bit of his time over the next few weeks dodging advances from Romilda Vane, who was getting rather creative in her attempts to smuggle him a love potion. He was beginning to run out of ideas to avoid it and it was becoming stressful, especially with also balancing his friendships with Ron and Hermione, who were still refusing to be in the same room as one another. On top of that, he still had not managed to find a proper date for Slughorn's Christmas party. While he wanted to ask a certain Slytherin to go with him, he understood that it might be an overall bad idea to do so. Their friendship was little more than a tentative and unspoken mutual agreement to not hex one another while they studied together a few times a week. 

The study sessions were tense, even awkward to start. Mostly filled with pointed silences and occasional glances. But slowly and surely conversation had begun to develop. Only safe topics, usually staying focused on the work. Draco would always state that there was no way he was helping Harry with his assignments, but through a series of almost playful insults, would wind up doing just that. 

It had begun to feel almost natural. Something next to comfortable. Parallel to it, though never quite hitting the mark. Even that was more than Harry had dared to hope for.

He could only imagine how quickly that would turn if he were to ask the blond on an actual date, even if he presented it as going as friends.

Then, of course, there were the strange lessons with Dumbledore- infrequent as they were. He had found himself constantly having dreams about the life and origins of Voldemort, seeing how the boy had turned into a monster. Every morning he woke with his scar prickling in pain, feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Perhaps it was partially due to the fact that he could relate on so many levels to the boy who once was Tom Riddle. 

The boy who had grown up without a family, othered and different from those around him. How easily it could have been his story too, but for the people who had come into his life to show him love and kindness. He found himself wondering - how different might Voldemort's life have been, had someone done the same for him? How different might his own be if they had not?

It was out of such thoughts that he was pulled as Hermione came into the Great Hall, making a show of telling Pavarti Patil all about how she would be taking Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party, definitely loud enough for Ron to hear. The look on his best friend's face told him plainly enough that he had heard her, but the redhead soon had a distraction in the form of a chattering Lavender Brown who was perfectly giddy to talk about the scandal with Pavarti.

Harry turned away from the display and jogged after Hermione and whispered to her, "McLaggen? You're taking the piss, right? He is awful."

"I wanted to make Ronald jealous." She replied with a shrug. 

"Well, I think it is safe to say that it worked," said Harry with a sigh. "But I was thinking that since neither of us can go with who we wanted that we could have gone together. You know, as friends." 

Hermione looked perfectly shocked and asked, "Why didn't I think of that?" She let out a sigh and added, "Oh well, it is done… and you still have a few hours… perhaps you could ask him?"

Harry laughed darkly and replied, "No, I think I like all of my features where they are, thanks… I guess I will just take my Patronus and go stag."

Hermione stopped in her tracks and deadpanned his direction. "I am not going to count that one, because of the stressful situation, but you are quite nearly at your pun limit for the month, Potter."

Harry let out a laugh and replied as they made their way toward Gryffindor tower to get ready, "Come on. That one was good,  _ Granger _ ."

-0-0-0-

Eight o'clock seemed to sneak up on him, but Harry found himself making his way toward Slughorn's office for what was bound to be a disaster of a party. He had managed to slip on a nicer pair of dress robes and tried for the better part of half an hour to tame his hair before giving up on it entirely and choosing to ruffle it up, making it look, if possible, even messier than usual. 

He entered the office and was immediately exasperated at the sight of the lavish gold curtains everywhere which gave the space the feeling of an incredibly gaudy tent. He made his way around the room once before he was practically accosted by Slughorn who spent the next thirty minutes or so trying to network for him, introducing him to all manner of posh and successful witches and wizards. He managed to extract himself eventually, taking up a lean against a back wall, nursing a glass of champagne as he watched Neville and Luna dance together near the music and saw Hermione doing her best to give Cormac the slip. 

He shook his head slightly and made his way over with a pleasant smile on his face and asked cheerfully, "Mind if I cut in? I'd like a dance with my best friend if you don't mind." 

McLaggen looked annoyed for just a moment but had muttered something about getting some drinks and shuffled off as Harry took Hermione's hand and lead her to the floor. 

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a hero, Harry Potter?" said Hermione with a legitimate sigh of relief. 

She looked absolutely stunning. Her periwinkle dress the perfect compliment to her rich dark skin, her hair up in complex and beautiful braids. Harry smiled brightly as he twirled her under his arm and he commented, "Maybe once or twice in passing." He chuckled softly before adding, "Though I think that McLaggen might disagree with your assessment."

"Oh, he is wretched, Harry," she replied in a whisper. 

"From what I saw it does not appear that Gryffindor chivalry means much to him," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "Would you like me to distract him while you slip away?"

"Oh Merlin, yes," Hermione replied with an enthusiastic nod as she was dipped playfully.

Harry gave a wink and whispered, "You go, I will cover you." 

With that, he lead her further into the throng before releasing her and making his way over to the refreshment table where the broad-shouldered Gryffindor was currently stuffing his face with finger sandwiches. McLaggen gave him a puzzled look when he did not see Hermione with him and he said casually as he grabbed another glass of champagne, "I do believe she went to powder her nose."

McLaggen gave a nod and swallowed thickly, muttering a thanks before making his way back into the party in search of Hermione, who was bound to be halfway back to Gryffindor tower by now. 

He was rather enjoying simply watching the party-goers, particularly to see a rosy-cheeked Slughorn with an arm around a rather cross looking Severus Snape. It was worth coming to the party just for that image. 

He had set down his glass and was prepared to excuse himself when a sight caught his eye that made his stomach twist: Draco Malfoy being dragged through the throng toward Slughorn and Snape by Argus Filch. 

Harry sped his steps up slightly just in time to catch Filch wheezing, "Found 'im lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Malfoy looked furious at having been caught doing whatever it was he had been doing in an upstairs corridor. Harry, however, answered on his behalf, "Professor Slughorn didn't. But I did. We were meant to bring someone to the party and I invited my friend Mr Malfoy here to join me as my plus one. I do hope that is alright, Professor."

Slughorn's smile was downright jovial as he replied, "Harry, m'boy! Of course, of course. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine and it is Christmas, after all. Come in, Draco and do try the dragon tartar."

Malfoy did not look necessarily happy with the arrangement and Snape, for some reason looked as if he were about to spit fire as he looked down at the blond. Draco quickly affixed a winning smile on his face, even though he did look, if possible, even paler and thinner than usual, "Thank you so much for your generosity, sir. And for forgiving my tardiness. I have heard that your parties are something of special magnificence and the reality certainly does not disappoint."

Slughorn had waved away the compliment good-naturedly and Draco shared a momentary silent exchange with Snape before he stepped forward giving a nod to Harry as they made their way across the room. 

Malfoy grabbed a flute of champagne and hissed under his breath as he lifted it to his lips, "What exactly are you playing at, Potter?"

Harry stepped up to Draco, blocking him from the line of sight of his Head of House before replying, "Only trying to help. Unless you would rather the detention?"

"Oh, sod off," Draco replied quietly before taking another drink. 

Harry chuckled softly, grabbing a third for himself- even if a small nagging voice in his mind that sounded uncannily like Hermione told him it was a bad idea. He raised a brow at the blond and asked, "So what were you doing?"

Draco glared up at him for a moment before averting his eyes and said, "Not that it is any of your business… but I couldn't sleep. I just wanted a bit of a walk to clear my head."

The Gryffindor gave a nod and replied with an empathetic smile, "I can get that. I do the same, sometimes." He gave a nod toward an overstuffed sofa and lead the Slytherin over to sit where they could enjoy their drinks in relative peace. "You don't have to stay long. Just long enough that they don't think I am completely full of shit. Might as well enjoy a drink or two. Might help you sleep."

And it certainly looked like Malfoy could use the sleep, if he was being honest. 

Draco nodded softly as he sat down and muttered, "Thank you… for the assist, that is. Though I am surprised that you were not able to actually secure a plus one, what with your hoard of empty-headed groupies. I am sure they'd have clawed each other's eyeballs out for the chance to dance with  _ The Chosen One _ ."

Harry rolled his eyes and replied, "I hate them all so much. Honestly, I'd rather be here with you." He seemed to realize that he had toed the line of dangerous territory and quickly added, "You are tolerable, anyway. In small doses."

The Slytherin scoffed as he finished his drink and summoned a second, "Be careful with all these compliments, Potter- they very well might go to my head."

"Wouldn't want that," Harry replied with a smirk. "I can't imagine what an insufferable git you would be if that happened."

"Well," Malfoy said before finishing his drink and replying with a smirk, "Bite your tongue or we might just find out. I do not think the wizarding world would ever forgive you for unleashing that upon them."

Their eyes met for a moment, both wearing pleasant- almost friendly smiles. Harry could feel something inside him awaken, hopeful and curious as he looked into those steel grey eyes, shining beautifully even though they were framed with tired, dark circles. There was a connection there. It was undeniable. Not necessarily romance, perhaps not even friendship- but something more than what they were or what they had let themselves become. Harry opened his mouth, his bravery bolstered by the champagne he had drank- liquid courage enough to spur him to ask if Malfoy maybe felt it too, but the words never left his lips. The moment was ruined by the entrance of a dark and imposing figure, looming over them like an overgrown bat. 

"Mr Malfoy. I would like a word with you in private." Snape's voice held an edge of dangerous venom, the words which were not a request issuing forth like the hiss of a snake. 

Malfoy had turned his head to the Professor, and even from his profile, the glare he levelled in Snape's direction was unmistakable. The blond let out a heavy sigh as he lifted himself from the plush couch and replied coolly, "Yes, sir."

He turned to Harry, the friendliness and connection shielded once again as he nodded in Harry's direction with an unreadable expression and followed after Snape. 

Harry felt as if a balloon of happiness had been ruptured inside him as he watched the blond walk off with the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. It had been the first time that they had ever just hung out. The walls were coming down- he was sure that the drink had something to do with it. But it was happening. And of course, it was Snape that ruined it.

The Gryffindor huffed, pushing himself off of the sofa and followed after the pair, the moment he was in the corridor pulling his invisibility cloak from beneath his robes and throwing it over his shoulders. He had slowed his steps to approach quietly the moment that he heard their hushed voices from one of the many classrooms he checked along the way.

"... cannot afford any mistakes, Draco. You are acting foolishly in more ways than one."

"I have already told you that I had nothing to do with that and what I do is none of your concern, Severus!"

"It does concern me. Already you are suspected-"

"Suspected? For the last time, I had nothing to do with what happened to the Bell girl. And stop looking at me like that, I know what you are trying to do and it won't work."

"Ah… Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to hide from your master, Draco?"

"I am not hiding anything from  _ him _ . But you have no business inside my head nor does anyone else. I know what I am doing, Snape. I have a plan and it will work. I do not need you."

"I am trying to protect you, Draco," Snape replied in a tone that was somewhere between exasperated and caring. 

"I do not need you to protect me. I do not need or  _ want _ anything from you. I am perfectly capable of doing this on my own. I don't care what kind of vows you made, Unbreakable or otherwise."

"It is not weakness to accept a helping hand, Draco. All I want is to make sure you succeed."

"All you want is the credit for it. If you want to help me, stay the hell away from me."

Harry had managed to catch the sound of Draco's boots heading toward him and moved out of the way of the door, crouching in the darkness as Malfoy stomped out of the abandoned classroom and into the corridor. He watched, scarcely daring to breathe as Draco disappeared around the corner and as Snape followed the same path after him. 

It seemed as if time had stopped around him as he waited, the reality of just how much trouble Malfoy was in settled upon him. His mind was racing, so many turbulent thoughts passing through him that he did not even realize he had moved until he was back in Gryffindor tower.

-0-0-0-


End file.
